


Poetry

by entanglednow



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil writes poetry, M/M, POV Cecil (Welcome to Night Vale), Typical Night Vale Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 11:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil offers a last minute addition to poetry week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poetry

"Well listeners, it's officially the last day of poetry week, and I hope you've enjoyed the poetry from citizens both new and old that we've been able to share with you. I know I always find some stellar examples of up and coming talent, and this year I think Night Vale has truly outdone itself. So lets all be grateful for the _mandatory_ poetry quota we're all expected to fill, some of us cramming words onto a page at three in the morning, eyes blurry from lack of sleep. Though we all know that's when the horrifying Night Worms often feed us the best ideas, in exchange for just a little of our sanity. Thank you, Night Worms, some of us couldn't do it without you.

Dana has encouraged me to share one of my own poems with you today. Now, I was a little hesitant, since I am by no means as talented as some of you. But who am I to refuse when so many of you have already had your feelings laid bare across the air waves, painted in hazy ash across the desert sky, or broadcasted on speakers in the town square, loudly and repeatedly until noon. So, listeners, I've brought one of my own that I'm especially proud of. I hope you'll forgive the flowery language, I will admit, I got a little carried away.

This one is titled simply, _Carlos_.

-

_An effigy of you, constructed at midnight, with blood, and sweat, and meat._

_The hair is yours, stolen by hands unworthy, the bones deer, and wolf, and assorted small rodents. Animal strength, and animal passion._

_You are set at the doorway, to discourage the unwelcome, the unwanted, the **unworthy**._

_Watching us, ever watching us, judging us, measuring us._

_We lift our hands to you, and beg to touch, just for a moment, just for one, single moment._

_But there is no time, there is too much time, there is all of the time, and none of it. Time is ephemeral._

_When your eyes settle on us, bottomless and **perfect** , we are scoured, immolated, figures blackened on a field of glass._

_Yet still we walk across that broken, razor-sharp ground, bleeding and speared, to reach the stark white of your coat. Which is a cloak of bleached bone, holding you apart from us, and above us._

_You seek not human drudgery, but the mysteries, the infinite, the unreal and the unremarked, fearless and unwavering._

_You are not for us, for we are greedy, unworthy, ephemeral creatures._

_We would hold you too tightly, debase you with our flesh, press our fingers beneath your skin, cut you open with our teeth to taste you, to **consume** you. _

_In our desperate, human need to become you._

_When we think of you, it is of the rituals and rites that we dare not name, nor speak of, lest our tongues be cut from our mouths, our eyes gouged out, and our ears filled with honey._

_As we grovel in the dirt, blinded and bleeding, before the terrifying perfection ... of your face_

-

Well listeners, I'm more than a little embarrassed now. I used the word 'ephemeral' twice there, and I hope that certain people, certain _scientist_ people will appreciate the thought behind it, and not judge me too harshly for the repetition.

But you know, I feel much better having shared that, Night Vale. So if you have a special someone, or a special something, don't be afraid to express yourself, whether it's in poetry, paint, or performance art. Who knows when you may exit this world, leaving nothing but regrets behind.

And now, the weather."


End file.
